


the alcohol burns (i deserve it)

by HeavensArcher



Series: Jaegercon Bingo [15]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavensArcher/pseuds/HeavensArcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"alcohol" fill. Herc didn't want to be pitied or comforted. Not tonight. He just wanted to be drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the alcohol burns (i deserve it)

The bar was pretty quiet. The distracted murmurs of the few remaining patrons and the staticy hum of an old recorded game were punctuated by clinks of glass as the barkeeper wiped down the glasses. The smell itself was nothing overly pleasant: musty, the sharp scent of alcohol and sweat, but at this stage Herc really didn’t care. He hadn’t exactly come to the bar to be regaled by something overly impressive.

He just wanted to get drunk.

The dingy place was across the city, in the darker more impovished side of town he knew the other people in the PPDC didn’t really frequent. They preferred the more upscale bars in the richer areas. Usually he did too, but he didn’t want to run into anyone he knew. He didn’t want to have people looking at him in pity, judging him. Not tonight.

He just wanted to get drunk.

He was well on his way.

Herc made a vague gesture at the barkeeper, who strolled over and served a few more shots of…something. He didn’t remember. Or care. It was something strong and that was really all that mattered. Throwing his head back he quickly downed the two shots, one after the other. The burn travelled down his throat making him wince and shake his head slightly before closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

Outside another round of fireworks exploded into the air, throwing bright colours across the windows. The world was celebrated the closing of the breach, the end of the war. The kaiju were no longer a threat, they were safe. It certainly was cause for celebration. Herc gestured for another round of shots, frowning at the barkeeper when they seemed hesitant to comply. The man side and regretfully served him more shots.

“Don’t you think that’s enough, mate?” He murmured lowly.

“No.” Herc replied shortly, slurring his words slightly.

“Look, man. It’s getting late, do you have someone I can call for you?” The barkeeper persisted.

“Not tonight.” Herc threw back the shots and left a generous amount of money on the counter – enough for all the drinks and a tip for putting up with his drunk ass. He stood and walked towards the door, only his years as a pilot standing in a shaking connpod keeping him up right, and hissed as the cool air blasted onto his skin. It was sobering.

He almost went back inside for another shot to make up for it.

He didn’t know how long he walked for, but somehow he found himself at the docks with a bottle of something cheap, nasty but very much alcoholic in his hand. He stared out over the black water from where he sat as he took a swig and winced and the horrible taste.

He could feel his phone vibrating again and again. He knew Raleigh or Mako were probably trying to find out where he was. If he was ok.

Well, he wasn’t. And tonight, he needed to be alone. He didn’t need them trying to fix him. Not tonight.

He stared at the picture of his son and wife, before the war, before the jaegers, and flicked passed it to a picture of his son looking proud and cocky as he was presented to the public in his drive suit.

His son.

Tonight Herc needed to be alone.

Tonight he just wanted to be drunk.


End file.
